


Of the North

by eggyolks (SilverShard)



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Death, Demons, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Fauns, Fiction, Killing, LGBTQ Characters, LGBTQ Romance, M/M, Sorta the Little Mermaid, eggyolks, not fanfiction, nothing too graphic in the romance department, tons of blood and gore, totally will be no romance in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 21:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16940667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverShard/pseuds/eggyolks
Summary: A young Faun's world is changed when a mortal washes up on the banks of the Tils river.Follow her adventure, filled with demons, mortals, fauns and goddesses, in the land of Merrell.(to be changed, along with the title)





	Of the North

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you for checking out my book!
> 
> Comments and questions are appreciated, and if this is ever published, the changes you want may be made.

#  **Chapter One**

The familiar trees that grew in this area of the forest towered over Adalara as she rode through on the back of her proud Janyr, Cookie. She did not balk at the things lying ahead, for this was her home, and she hoped that it would be for the rest of her immortal life. Adalara was a solitary being, not caring for the welfare of others. She had never wanted a lover or children - the simple life that she lived was enough. 

She clutched Cookie’s amber fur as he raced forward, covering the ground between them and the Tils River where she had set up a temporary home. The green and brown of the forest passed with a blur, and she savoured the bite of cold wind that met her pale face. It would be the last bit of the cold before summer hit, the sweltering heat turning everything in the forest to withered husks.

Not that the winter had been much better - this year had been colder than the last, and she had been forced into living underground with the worms until the first Burning, a celebration the Fauns participated in, of the rising and passing of the full moon in both spring and fall.

Adalara leaned down farther on the giant ginger cat, trying to keep the tiny wind chimes around her left ram-like horn from flying off. She had kept the pure gold trinkets on her horn, ever since she found them floating westward up the river, all the way out to the Thazaar Sea. They were one of the many talismen that she had found coming her way from the Mortal Territories.

Once the calm Tils River came into view, Adalara and Cookie slowly stopped, and Adalara slid off of the beast’s back, plopping onto the cracked ground. The two moved toward their temporary lean-to home and Adalara retrieved a small, dented tin cup from her deer-skin bag, moving to the edge of the slowly-moving river.

She caught a bit of water in the cup, sipping it before fetching more. Behind her, Cookie rolled around on the dusty ground for some unknown reason, and she snorted to herself with amusement.

Adalara found Cookie only a year ago, and he had been a quarter of his current size, and a sniffling mess. Abandoned by his parents and left to rot, she hadn’t wanted to take him along, but when he had followed her back to a previous camp, she couldn’t help but keep the poor kitten.

Adalara took another gulp of water, and a drop escaped her lips, sliding down her arm, leaving a pale streak where it wiped away the dirt. She stood, setting down the tin cup. She would bathe once she had gotten something to eat.

“Cookie,” she called, and he perked up, pausing his fun. “We need to hunt down something to eat for dinner.”

~(*)~

Adalara and Cookie krept as quietly as they could across the moss covered ground. It wasn’t long before they reached a clearing, and at the center stood a fat doe, grazing on the soft jade grass. She pulled back on Cookie’s fur, signaling for him to stop.

The wind was blowing eastward, away from the deer, so the scent of both Janyr and Faun were carried opposite of its direction. The poor thing wouldn’t know what was coming until it was too late. “Stay here Cookie,” Adalara murmured, leaping silently to the forest floor, redwood bow in hand.

Drawing a sleek arrow from the almost empty quiver at her side, she knocked it into her bow, pulling back slowly and aiming for one of the doe’s black eyes. She sucked in a deep breath. Taking lives had never been her strength, but sometimes the temptation of roasted meat to fill the empty corners of her stomach sometimes forced her to do it.

She sucked in more air, letting her face settle.  _ Even if I left the deer alive,  _ she assured herself,  _ it wouldn’t survive the cold of the winter. _

With that thought, she let the arrow fly, and it speared through the fawn’s eye, only a few bits of gore spraying as the creature fell to the forest floor. 

Satisfied with a good shot, knowing that the doe had a quick, painless death, she moved forward, and picked up the doe’s carcass, throwing it over her shoulder.

Cookie seemed to smile with delight as Adalara climbed back onto his back. “Let’s go back to camp, okay? I need to bathe and we both need to eat before dark.”

Adalara pulled on her mount’s thick fur, and he shot into motion once again, paws almost silent on the ground as he pounded back to the Tils.

She admired the strong cat, wishing that she could be like him. Cookie seemed indestructible and fearless, nothing making his soft insides churn. She admired that part of him as well; the fact that he could stay happy and innocent even when hard things came to them.

Adalara smiled softly, as they rounded the last tree and reached the small camp. She sniffed the air lightly, something off about the scent. There was another added against that of the forest. Something that didn’t belong.

She slipped down off of her pet, looking around uneasily. She couldn’t remember the last time she had smelled another Faun, and if one had came, they surely would have washed in the river before hiding…  _ Nothing,  _ she assured herself.  _ It’s nothing. _

She pulled the deer off, letting the worry fall away with the healthy doe’s body as it thumped onto the ground. “Cookie, you go somewhere else, I have to make a fire,” she pointed off to where their shelter was, no wanting him to get burned accidentally. “I’ll call you over when the food is ready.”

Dragging the carcass over to the place where her previous fire had been, and sat down on the hard earth with a sorrowful sigh.

The arrow still protruded from the creature’s eye, and Adalara placed her hand gently on its face, the shaft between her thumb and forefinger of her right hand. She pulled it out as quickly as possible, trying to ignore the brutal  _ slurp _ of bone and sinew coming out along with it.

She wouldn’t let the precious arrow go to waste, not when her supply was running out, and the others that she did save sometimes got brittle and the wood splintered and eventually snapped.

Adalara got up, arrow in hand, and walked over to a pile off to the side removing a cloth that revealed a pile of arrows, both broken and not. The broken ones had the possibility of being fixed, but when one came up that Adalara knew she wouldn’t be able to fix, into the fire it went, to become kindling.

She fished in the pile for a little bit, and then once she found what she was looking for: a pot of redwood sap that she used as a replacement for the oil that was necessary for keeping the tips of the arrows from rusting and disintegrating.

Adalara dipped her hand in it, and then took out a bit of the sticky substance, starting to slowly cover the used arrowhead in it. When she was finished, she placed it with the other whole arrows, and back under the cloth. 

She didn’t want the sap to completely dry until it was time to use them; if they did, it would let the arrows rust. When she did, she didn’t want to be eating tainted meat which her stomach would  _ not _ agree with.

Even immortals had their limits.

Once she was satisfied with her work, Adalara stood up and walked back over to the corpse. She took out her pure silver hunting knife, which also had been covered in the redwood sap that she loved dearly. Dropping down, Adalara looked for the best place to start, and once she had decided, she began the process of skinning the doe, so that she could then cut it up, and roast it on her newly-made spit.

Adalara had never really liked the process of skinning animals, especially when it came to birds since she also had to defeather them and that took  _ forever.  _ She knew that killing had never been her strong suit, but pulling the skin right from their bones.. _. _ she shuddered slightly. 

Once she had gotten the first cuts in, and pushed her hands underneath the deer’s hide, she found a place to pull, and from there, she watched as the skin easily peeled away, still in practically one piece.

Adalara then put the skin away to be used later, and started cutting up the meat into sizeable chunks, leaving the entrails for Cookie to eat later. She took the other parts to the fire, and started to slowly put it on the spit, careful to not create any large tears in the meat.

Once Adalara was sure that it wouldn’t fall off and into the flames, she took out her flint and steel, bundles of kindling, and firewood. She began with the smaller pieces, and put it in a teepee-like position.

Adalara put the kindling in the middle, picked up the flint and steel, and striked it as hard as she could, making the sparks fly toward the kindling and watched as it caught fire.

The meat didn’t take long to roast, and she took a small portion off for herself, letting the rest stay warm over the heat. She would have to wrap up the extra and put it away for safekeeping later. Her fingers burned slightly, but it didn’t matter - her healing abilities would keep the blisters at bay.

Adalara lifted the venison to her lips, taking a bit of the succulent meat - a rare delicacy since she could rarely find a beast of this nature. Her stomach growled in annoyance, and she devoured the rest without hesitation, taking another helping, her Faun body long from being full. It was one of their weaknesses - the fact that they needed to eat tons of food for their hunger to be quenched fully.

Once Adalara had finished, she stood up, now noticing how dark it had gotten. The sky was speckled with sparkling stars, and a pink blush coated the background, as if the great sky goddess Talrania had taken a brush to the heavens, painting a mural for all of Merrell to see.

Adalara wiped her hands on her filthy tunic, watching as the fire began to die out. She headed for where a animal fat lantern sat near her bedroll, and lit it using the dying embers of the fire, watching as the darkness crept into the nooks and crannies of the forest.

She moved to the calmest part of the river, and set down her lamp, glancing around once more, now remembering what she had sensed earlier. If it  _ had  _ been another Faun, they were definitely gone now, but she wasn’t going to take the chance of undressing when a stranger was in her near proximity.

Adalara called Cookie over to her, and he came running. “Cookie, you keep watch while I bathe. There’s food for you over there.” She gestured to the pile of insides, flies already starting to swarm. She glanced around again, and with that, peeled off her dirty clothing, setting it in a neat pile beside the river to be washed later. Still not entirely sure that there was no one around, she left her undergarments on and slipped into the cool water.

She made quick work of washing down, soaking her long, deep blue hair, the tiny white speckles that were scattered through it glowing weakly. Adalara closed her deep green eyes and leaned back, massaging her scalp and the base of her curled horns. There was a strangled cough from her left and her head shot up, instantly on alert, pointed ears twitching.

Looking to where the sound had come from, and nearly toppled over in surprise.

There, lying on the muddy river bank, sat a brown-haired, silver-eyed man, his side leaking ruby blood into the water.

He opened his mouth, a dribble of blood leaking free. “Am I still alive?”

Adalara clasped her arms over her chest, the soaked fabric reassuring her little. She steeled her voice, raising her chin slightly. “Are you mortal?”

“No, I’m Jax,” he answered, slowly taking her in. Adalara wished that she hadn’t given Cookie permission to eat, for he was most definitely asleep by now, watch duty forgotten completely.

She let the foreign word roll over her tongue, the Faun people did not have the sounds needed to sound out his short name. “I’ve never heard of a-” she shivered as his gaze roved over her again. “A  _ Jax  _ before. Anyway, you look a lot like a mortal to me.”

He gave her a pained smile, that seemed more like a wince. “My  _ name  _ is Jax,” he corrected, “do you think you could help me out here? I’m  _ pretty _ sure that-” he coughed out some more blood before continuing, “I’m pretty sure that being able to see my freaking guts isn’t a good sign,” he said with a smirk, and Adalara finally realized that the paleness to his skin was not normal. If he did not get bandaged up soon, he would die of blood loss.

“Ah, right then, Jax,” she glanced at her clothing, discarded at the side of the river. If she but them back on, her wet skin would just absorb the dirt, and she would need to bathe once more in the morning. “Cookie!” She yelled, and Jax lifted an eyebrow at the name. “Get over here and bring some of my extra cloth as well!”

Cookie perked up, his ears flicking back at the sight of a stranger. Jax’s eyes widened at the sight of the Janyr. “What in the seven Hells is that  _ thing? _ ” He yelled, trying to helplessly scramble away, but he couldn’t, his wound causing too much pain.

Adalara shushed him, putting a pale finger to her lips and giving a pointed glare at his torn-open stomach. “Stop moving, or you’ll die you idiot! Cookie isn’t going to do any harm.”

Jax panted, pain overtaking his features. “You named that thing  _ Cookie?  _ Jesus lady, and I thought  _ I _ had problems.”

Adalara let out a quiet  _ humph  _ as she watched Cookie going to retrieve the requested items. “I’ve always dreamed of going to the Mortal Territories, but if all of your ilk are like you, then I think I’d rather just stay here.”

“Nope,”  he assured her waving a scar speckled hand, “I’m special.”and Adalara scowled. Jax turned to where Cookie sat, head inside of the lean-to, rummaging around for something. “What is your beast doing over there anyway?”

“Getting linen for bandaging your guts up. It’s gross.”

“Are you sure it’s going to be sanitary? My doctor told me that I should stay away from things that might give me an infection. You know, like the dirty mouths of giant cats and such.”

“You know, I don’t think I would care much if you died of infection,” she answered as Cookie came over, thin fabric held proudly in his mouth. She nodded and took it in her hands, slowly sloshing over to the place where Jax lay. Checking the damage, she realized that she hadn’t asked a very important question. “How did you get such terrible wounds, and then end up in the Tils River?  _ My,  _ river, I should add.”

“It’s a long story darling,” Jax answered, and she could sense that he wasn’t giving her the full truth. “I’d rather you just fix me first, my guts are tired of hogging all of the attention from my amazing face.”

“Uh-huh,” she took a section of the cloth, ripping it off and dunking it in the water. “This is going to hurt, so you might want to brace yourself.” She soaked it a bit longer, glad that the waters here had been blessed with extraordinary healing abilities like Adalara’s own.

Adalara slowly dabbed at the area around Jax’s wound, and he swore colorfully enough to be a sailor, leaning back as if he couldn’t bare to watch. Once she had washed the blood off, she pulled an already threaded needle that Cookie had added to the pile without being asked. She readied to sew up the cut, but Jax interrupted her.

“Won’t that thread stay in my skin? Because if it does, then it’s gonna ruin my amazing stomach complexion” He said, sweat beading on his forehead from the pain.

“It’s not simple sewing thread,” she grumbled, “it’s spun spider silk.”

“And that’s any better?” Jax asked and Adalara pierced his skin with the tip of the needle.

“Yes, now shut up.” Adalara quickly sewed up the cut with expert precision, trying to ignore Jax’s thrashing and vulgar language. “Okay, I finished,” she dunked her hands into the river, cleaning away the blood. “We have to get you out of this water, so you won’t freeze.” Though the river would heal wounds, it would not keep out the night chill.

“And how are you going to do that? I don’t th-” Jax was cut off as Cookie lifted him up in his mouth, gentle, though Adalara hadn’t asked. “Help!” He flailed around, but gave up as the cut began to leak blood again. “It’s got me!”

“He’s not going to eat you! And look! You’ve torn the spider silk!” Adalara slowly climbed out of the water, shaking her hair out. Across her camp, Cookie dropped Jax on Adalara’s bedroll, and picked up some of her clothing before running back over.

She pulled on the deep green tunic and pants, the colors matching that of her eyes. Her body was mostly dry from the crisp night air. The rough cloth chafed her light skin; she had taken it off of a dead farmer that had also happened to wash up in her river.

Adalara moved back to her temporary home, noticing that Jax was already taking over her space. She quickly fixed his stitches, and sat in a small section that Jax wasn’t hogging.

“Hey, I don’t think I ever learned your name,” he mumbled, and she now noticed how tired he looked. For a mortal, he had certainly withstood a lot of things. How he had managed to be so annoying, and not die?

“Adalara,” she answered, sighing and turning away. She took her lanturn, the animal fat almost out, and went into the woods for a plant that should help make Jax unconscious, and let her be in peace.

After a few minutes of searching, Adalara finally came across the right plant, with large leaves and a tiny white flower at the center. She picked a few of the leaves, and walked back to camp where Jax was still mumbling nonsensical things, almost asleep. 

She walked over to where an empty bowl sat on the ground, and then got one of the smooth rocks from the river, and began to pound the leaves into a paste. Adalara walked over to Jax’s form, and as Adalara had suspected, he had a high fever.

She quickly scooped out a bit of the paste with two of her fingers and as she shoved it in Jax’s mouth, him protesting as they slipped down his throat. She instantly could hear him calming down a bit as she pulled her fingers out, wiping them on her pants.

Before Jax finally stilled, and fell asleep, Adalara could hear him say one last bit. _ “Don’t forget about me.” _

 


End file.
